


Waves

by painty



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, I listened to "Waves" by Dean Lewis the whole time I wrote this, Loneliness, Other, Riverdale, Sadness, running away from problems
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-26
Updated: 2017-07-26
Packaged: 2018-12-07 05:09:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11616552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/painty/pseuds/painty
Summary: AU where Archie tells Jughead about his father's arrest. Jughead runs as far away from his problems as he can. 1x12





	Waves

It all happened so fast. The way the words slipped off his tongue with ease, as if he wanted so desperately to say it. "Your father was arrested for the murder of Jacob Blossom."

It seemed as if time froze in that one moment. Standing in the halls of the school, Betty and Veronica standing around him, equally as shocked as Jughead was. The black-haired male almost staggered back, a hitched breath escaping from his jaws. His throat began to burn. Tears flecked his eyes but he pushed the pain back. He would not cry in front of these people.

"No." Jughead's voice was raspy and quiet, as if he hadn't spoken to anyone in days. His lip quivered, the teen biting his tongue so sobs wouldn't begin spilling out of his mouth. He gulped down a jagged breath and turned, running.

Running.

The wind flew by him as he practically slammed through the doors of the school. Tears fell down his cheeks, his cries escaping into the crisp night air. Betty, Veronica and Archie weren't far behind, standing on the top of the steps, calling his name as he sprinted down the sidewalk.

He couldn't turn back. He wouldn't.

His eyes began to burn. The adrenaline pumped through his veins, carrying him for another few miles. He didn't even realize his legs were burning. Jughead didn't know where he was going; he just knew he had to get away.

Jughead found his "home", eventually, or what he considered the place he was sleeping for tonight. A bag buried in the ground under the oak tree, the park calm and serene. Though the teenager did not feel this tranquility, he respected it.

Jughead was not normal. His mother and sister Jellybean lived in Toledo, and his father was now arrested for the murder of Jason Blossom...

He now remembered why he was out here, trying to escape his problems and do what he could to leave his "friends." A sad cry wrenched from his throat when he realized that Archie, Betty, and Veronica were not his friends. They had used him, as everyone did.

Jughead was alone.

The black-haired teen grabbed his back and breathed in the fresh oxygen, eyes closing for a few idle moments as he figured out where to go. His friend were out of proportion, but... what about mom and JB?

He had some money. He could catch a ride to Toledo on the train, sleep there and meet up with his family again. Get away from all the fucked up shit that went on in Riverdale.

Though, Jughead knew what he had to do now. His father was in jail, most likely being interrogated right now for Jason Blossom's murder. No matter how much he wanted to believe, the teen knew that his father was likely guilty of the crime. He was with the Southside Snakes, after all. They didn't exactly scream innocent.

Forcing tears out of his eyes, Jughead made his way toward the sheriff's office. Wherever that was. His legs moved slowly, the teen in no rush to see his father.

What if he's confessed already? What if I can't see him? What if I can't say goodbye?

Did he really want to say goodbye? After all, his father wasn't the best human being on the planet. Not just a drunk gang leader, but also a manipulative betrayer. He always seemed to keep letting Jughead down.

No matter what he wanted his father to say, Jughead knew he would ultimately be disappointed in the end.

He eventually made it to the sheriff's, barging in the doors with no hesitation. His green eyes flitted around, landing on the king himself, who looked particularly stressed at the moment.

Sheriff Keller almost immediately noticed Jughead. The teen's eyes were cold, brimmed with tears and rimmed with read, the burning in his throat rising up again. He walked toward the sheriff, his footsteps echoing in the room and through his ears, rattling his brain as though he were getting punched over and over again.

He so, so hoped his father wasn't guilty.

Keller flicked up his hat and observed Jughead for a few moments, no emotion swelling on his face. "I take it you're here to see FP."

"No, I'm here to have a nice little chit chat. Yeah, I'm here to fucking see my dad." Jughead's voice was dripping with venom, chips of ice shattering through the air.

Keller narrowed his eyes but only nodded, which surprised the teen in all honesty. "Fine. But don't take it to heart if he says nothin', kid. He's looking as guilty as any other Southsider."

Jughead didn't respond. He had no energy to defend his father at the moment, and didn't know if he even wanted to. Did he deserve it? Most likely not.

Keller lead the teen to one of the interrogation rooms, metal surrounding the thick door. Jughead could see his father inside, cuffs wrapped around his wrists, his head bowed to the table as if he wanted to slam it into a wall.

Jughead could relate.

"I'll go in with you--"

"I'm fine." The teen faced Keller with a glare. "He won't hurt me."

Keller hesitated but nodded anyway, grabbing the handle and opening the door. Jughead took a breath and stepped inside, his eyes adjusting to the change of darkness. His father - who looked quite scraggly in his clothes, though freshly shaven - turned to his son, not looking surprised in the least bit. Jughead bit his lip and felt his legs shaking. The highschooler took a seat across from FP, the tension hanging in the air like thick maple syrup. 

Ironic.

"Dad." Jughead didn't mean for his voice to crack. He composed himself but slumped again, bags under his dim green eyes, a frown easily seen on his features. The bag had been left outside. He wondered if his ex-friends were here, but knew that didn't matter right now.

All he wanted was the truth.

FP nodded, biting his inner cheek and sighing. "Son."

Silence. Jughead felt his heart race speed up, his forehead breaking into a sweat at the heat.

Oh, he hoped his father hadn't killed Jacob Blossom.

"Did you do it?" This time, Jughead's voice came out in a sob. Several tears ran down his cheeks, dripping from his nose and falling to the floor. His father's pained expression was hard to notice, but the teen could see through. He always knew what his father was feeling.

FP's lips quivered. His outline looked blurry, but Jughead soon realized it was because of the tears that flecked his vision. He suppressed his whimpers for a moment longer, hoping to allow time for his father to answer.

"I did."

Jughead immediately began crying, jumping to his feet and pounding on the door. Keller quickly opened it, looking concerned and angry at FP, but Jughead only ran past the sheriff and picked up his bag, fleeing.

He didn't know where to go.

The boy didn't know what to do. For once in his life, he felt broken. He had no family here anymore, no home, no friends. All he had was his stupid computer and his stupid novel.

Jughead didn't know how much longer he could run. He eventually made it to another park, falling under a tree and curling into a ball by the side, his cries a mixture of anger and grief. He screamed at the stars and cursed everyone around him, cursed himself for being so gullible to believe others and their words.

Everyone lied. But when they finally told the truth, it was ugly. So ugly that even Jughead didn't want to know.

The boy sniffed and sobbed for a while longer until he shakily stood to his legs, forcing himself to find a payphone somewhere around. He needed to call mom.

Jughead eventually found one near the train station. He inserted a few quarters and dialed his mother's number, slumping against the glass wall, tears still falling.

She didn't pick up.

When the beep came, Jughead opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. What could he say? "Oh, hey mom, dad got arrested for the murder of Jacob Blossom and confessed to it. I'm living in the park and have no friends. Can I come stay with you and Jellybean?"

Jughead slammed the phone back on the wall and left, the tears falling hard this time. His legs crumpled beneath him, gravity apparently against him today as his head collided with hard concrete. Ohh, damn. He liked the pain. But it only made him cry more, the teenager uncontrollably curling into a ball in the middle of the road.

He wished he could just die now.

After a long while of laying there, no cars passing by to run over him (which was slightly disappointing), Jughead forced himself to stand up and make his way to Pop's. Nothing like free wifi and valuable time to write when he was in his worst state.

Oh, yes.

When he made it to the small restaurant, Jughead ignored everyone and took a seat in a back booth. He set his bag down beside him, taking his computer out and opening it, scanning his documents for his novel on Jacob Blossom's murder.

The teen's fingers hovered over the keyboard. His eyes flickered back and forth across the screen, wishing he knew what he could say.

It finally came to him.

"In the aftermath of all that happened before, I had finally come to the conclusion that maybe knowledge was best served unknown. However, those thoughts were cut off as soon as I heard that my father, FP, had been arrested for the murder of Jacob Blossom.

I couldn't believe it. Through everything I had written, going back and analyzing the details of the case Betty and I had pieced together, I never imagined my father had been in the middle of it all. I even let him read this. He questioned me about it, seemed interested. I thought it was because he was trying to get better, but now I know the real reason. He just wanted details from his son.

After hearing the news, I ran as far as I could. I didn't know what to do, until I decided I had to visit my old man myself. And so I did, and I don't know whether I regret that decision or honor it. To make a short story short, he confessed.

My father killed Jacob Blossom."

His fingers lifted, tears streaming down his face. Luckily, anyone else was on the other side of the restaurant, not noticing the homeless teenager in a time of need and desperation.

That made him feel guilty.

Jughead saved his work and stored his computer back into his bag, wiping the tears from his cheeks as he rested his head on the cool window, his breaths making clouds of fog appear on the glass. His green eyes closed, his exhaustion overpowering him. 

Oh, how much he just wanted to sleep... and eventually, the darkness covered his vision, and all his problems could disappear. At least for a few hours.


End file.
